


When in the Attic

by Helen8462



Series: Tumbler Prompts, Challenges and Other Inspired Vignettes [4]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Holodeck, Mystery, Prompt Fic, WTF was on the 4th Floor?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/pseuds/Helen8462
Summary: Taking a respite from her everyday life, Kathryn resumes a favorite holodeck program and resolves the mystery of the fourth floor.





	When in the Attic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starfleet_vs_Maquis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfleet_vs_Maquis/gifts).



> This vignette was written for oh-punky’s “WTF was on the 4th Floor” contest. It’s short, not terribly inspired, but I had to take a shot at something other than the obvious. Set just after “Future’s End.”

Kathryn Janeway couldn’t quite remember the last time she had tied herself into a corset and strode down the length of Voyager in a Victorian-era governess’s gown.  Surely it had been a year at least, maybe two.  She could ask the computer, but it didn’t really matter.  All she knew was that after the week she had just experienced – one that ironically landed her rather close to Lord Burleigh’s era on Earth - she needed a bit of relaxation. 

 _‘Yes,’_ she told herself. _‘Escape into the holodeck.  Push Braxton and time travel and the temporal prime directive far from your mind.  Get off the bridge.  You deserve a break.’_

Life in this program was so very different than the one she was used to.  Everything was rather straight forward here.  Relationships were relatively uncomplicated.  Her only responsibility was two holographic children.  And, she didn’t have to worry about breaking the temporal prime directive. 

Kathryn found it was rather easy to pick up where she had left off with Lord Burleigh and his family.  Though, she had to admit, at times it grew a bit tiresome - bickering with Mrs. Templeton, trying to direct and ingratiate herself to the bitter children, assuaging the sorrow of the man of the house.

So, when Lord Burleigh had reminded her again not to - under any circumstances - go to the fourth floor, she found that she couldn’t help herself.  After a week of slogging through what was turning out to be one of the most boring holonovels in the history of holonovels, Kathryn – a.k.a. Lucy – had had enough of waiting.

The grandfather’s clock struck nine.  Its brazen chimes reverberated through her skull.  Young Henry and Beatrice had been put to bed.  Lord Burleigh was entertaining several guests in the dining room.  And the governess character had been left to peruse the library where she should have been preparing lessons for the following day.  Kathryn figured that this was the point where her character would have let curiosity get the better of her.  

Her eyes darted about the expansive library, she could still hear Burleigh’s booming voice in the study where he had just moved with his guests.  She padded through the back entrance and out into the hallway.  Under the guise of going to check on the children, she went up to the second floor.  She listened, but there were no sounds.  Her young charges were asleep.

She lifted the plume of her skirt slightly and continued upwards.  The stairs creaked loud and ominously as she made her way up the staircase.  She paused a moment on the third floor.  It held Lord Burleigh’s master suite, which included a luxurious bedroom she had been granted privy to only once.  It was an innocent visit, but she expected that if she so decided to take another trip here it would be a slightly less than chaste encounter.  A chapter for another time, perhaps.

As she passed the third floor, the voices from downstairs were no longer able to be heard.  She sucked in a breath as large as she could with the corset binding her lungs to the inside of her ribcage.  The air going upward was thick and heavy with the rising heat and dust. 

The stairs began to twist and turn as they climbed, changing from wood into a metal spiral staircase.  Kathryn felt as if she had just risen at least two floors worth of steps and figured it might have been a bit of an exaggeration on the part of the author for effect.  In any event, she didn’t appreciate the extra effort it took to haul herself higher than necessary in the heavy dress.

Finally, at the top, she found an unassuming wooden door with a brass handle.  She wondered just what would be inside.  Would it be the supposedly deceased wife?  Or perhaps, remains of the wife accompanied by a restless ghost?  Those were the most plausible guesses.  Beatrice, that creepy little girl-child, did continue to insist that her mother was still alive.

Kathryn held her breath and turned the handle.  She pushed through and was immediately accosted with a familiar, electrical smell.  The room was dim.  Light from each of two windows at opposite ends of the attic had been darkened by heavy tarps.  She stepped warily to the side and pulled one of the tarps away.  Bright moonlight expanded to fill the chamber.

It was a bit of a surprise to notice that the attic was empty, save for a very large, very strange sleigh in the middle of the floor.  Kathryn walked over to it and put her hand on its distinctly non-dusty surface.  The rails and runners of the odd-looking piece of furniture were gilded in gold.  Behind a red-velvet seat was a large, silver disk with numbers painted around the edges.  Across the front she found a black cylinder and what appeared to be red lights in glass jars.  Other cryptograph-style indicators and controls were present for the sleigh’s driver to maneuver.  But to what end she couldn’t be sure.  Nothing about this particular piece of furniture – if that was in fact what it was – looked like it belonged in this house.

Kathryn tilted her head.  “What on Earth?” she muttered, tracing along the upper golden rail.  “This almost looks like -”

Her thought was interrupted by a low, deep voice.  “I see you’ve disobeyed my orders Lucy.”

She swung around to be faced with Lord Burleigh.  “I…I’m sorry my Lord,” she said, stammering slightly, regaining her character.  “I…”

“Curiosity got the best of you, I see,” he said with a heavy sigh.  “Well, I suppose I would have shown you this eventually.”

“If it’s not meant for my eyes…” she offered with a slight bow of her head.

“You’ve seen it now.  And I’d rather have you enjoy her with me, than have you running off to tell the townspeople.”

“Her?” she asked, confused.

Burleigh sidled up to Kathryn and put his hand on the back of the large wheel as he walked around the object.  “This… this most marvelous invention,” he said proudly.  “She’s a ship, Lucy.”

“Beg pardon, my Lord, but ‘she’ looks like a winter’s sleigh.”

Burleigh laughed, loud and deep. “This, Lucy.  Is a time ship.”

Kathryn’s face fell.  “A what?” she asked plainly, her voice decisively unamused.

“It’s a machine.  A time machine.  And she can take us any-when we want to go.”

Kathryn closed her eyes lightly, pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered under her breath.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She regarded her companion once more with a pointed glare as he admired the device.  “Computer, freeze program.”

Burleigh’s character became statuesque.  

“Read the summaries for the next four chapters,” she ordered.

_*Chapter Four.  Over an intimate lunch, Lord Burleigh admits to Lucy that he sent his wife to another era after she threatened to take the children and leave him destitute.  Burleigh takes Lucy on her first time-travelling trip.*_

_*Chapter Five.  After having witnessed their father and the governess enjoying each other’s company, Beatrice and Henry suspect that Lucy has developed feelings for their father.  They plot to make her disappear just as their mother has.  The governess is cornered in the attic and the children activate the machine.*_

_*Chapter Six.  Trapped in the year 1731, Lucy attempts to find a way back to her own time.  Lucy discovers that she shares a common ancestor with Lord Burleigh and must navigate without disturbing a timeline that could affect them both in the present.*_

_*Chapter Seven.  Lucy tries to undo the damage that she inadvertently caused when she -*_

“Computer, halt playback.”

Kathryn slumped to a seat on the edge of the sleigh.  “Janeway to Lieutenant Paris.”

_‘Paris here.’_

“Tom, when I asked you to extrapolate an ending for the partial Lord Burleigh program we found in the archives, did you take any…. liberties with the storyline?”

_‘Um.  I’m not sure exactly what you’re talking about Captain.  That was almost two years ago.’_

“The fourth floor, Tom.  Did you mess with the fourth floor?”

_‘Oh. Right, that. Well.  The story just seemed unoriginal.  I mean, it was so predictable.’_

“What was supposed to be up here?”

_‘You mean instead of the time machine?’_

“Yes, Tom.  Instead of the time machine.”

_‘The wife.  He was keeping her up there.  She was a nasty old shrew too.  But it was such an overused plot line.  Completely lacking in originality. I thought you’d enjoy something more modern and exciting.  And H.G. Wells was in the same century as Victorian Gothic….’_

Kathryn shook her head.  “I appreciate your effort, if not your creative license Mr. Paris.  Perhaps next time I’ll have to be more explicit when I ask for your help.  Janeway out.”

She moved her eyes up at the statuesquely handsome Lord Burleigh as he remained frozen with his hand on the time machine.  “Well, my Lord.  I’m afraid this is where we part ways.  You see, I have entirely too many temporal experiences in my real life.  I don’t need them in my recreation too.”

Then she cocked her head and sighed.  “It’s a shame though.  You’re rather handsome.  Oh well.  Perhaps in another place….or another time,” she half-chucked at her own bad joke. 

“Computer end program.  Delete progress and make the file open for public use.”

And with that, the Captain strode back down the length of her own ship – in a corseted, Victorian governess’s gown.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes me over the 100,000 word mark of written fiction. Never, in a million years, would I have thought I'd write this much when I started in January. *blows kisses to all of my readers* Hopefully, at least some of those words weren't complete shit.


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